


Brave Young King

by orphan_account



Series: Brave Young King, And Other Tales [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Spring Awakening - Sheik/Sater
Genre: Based on a Tumblr Post, Fluff, Multi, hernst, i was bored, melchiritz
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-03
Updated: 2015-09-19
Packaged: 2018-04-18 21:17:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4720751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hogwarts wasn't Moritz's favourite place.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Moritz Stiefel was too shy for Hogwarts. He couldn’t stay. Hopefully he’d catch a cold so he could go home. Or maybe this was all a mistake and there was another boy by the same name... no, how many Moritz Stiefels would there be in the world? Population one. He shuffled his feet on the ground, not looking up at the surroundings. It was so big and surely he’d get lost within the week. It didn’t take long for him to get lost anywhere. He had no friends—nothing new. He just wanted to belong somewhere. And this was NOT the place.

 _Hogwarts is for the smart people,_ he’d tell himself. _I’m not smart. They got the wrong person._ Why did he need to be here? Why couldn’t he just run back home (well, Germany is a little far)? Tears started to form in the back of his eyes. _Don’t cry, you idiot._

“Are you okay, sir?” Moritz looked up at a skinny—very, very skinny—boy with black hair, who was a little too tall even if he was an adult. He looked petrified. Moritz shook his head, no. The boy, this stranger, hugged him. Hugged him, in front of even more strangers. “Even if you don’t tell me your name, I’ll tell you mine. I’m Ernst Robel, and I like hugs. Do you like hugs too? Hugs are great and cuddly and warm and I need them to live.”

Moritz’s smile turned into a laugh. “I’m Moritz Stiefel.”

“Do you think you’ll get in Gryffindor?” Ernst asked quietly. He must’ve been eleven too. A really tall eleven year old with a baby face. He looked down at his feet; he wore plain brown boots with laces. He didn’t look like your average kid; neither did Moritz, not with his hair, and his personality, one unlike most people he knew of. Ernst seemed too timid, in a way.

Moritz shrugged. He studied facts about the houses during the summer, and he wasn’t sure where he’d belong. He wasn’t smart enough for Ravenclaw, or evil for Slytherin. Gryffindor meant you were tough...which he was the opposite of. Hufflepuff seemed to be for the calm children. Ernst would definitely be there, no doubt. Perhaps he would too.

“If we get sorted into the same house, want to be roommates? It’s fine if you don’t want to, they’d most likely put me with the girls where I’m no harm.” Ernst got quieter. His face went red from embarrassment. “I mean, I wouldn’t be going after them, like most boys do—not that you are like that, I bet you are sweet and gentle and all that, I’m just stating that—”

“I feel like I’ll be a Hufflepuff.” Moritz stared around the area. Was this the usual meeting spot? It was crowded by a lot of tall and short people. He began to feel small inside. Ernst gripped his arm and drew out a chilling breath. It was like a horror movie for the two boys. What would happen to them?

A tall, elderly man with a long beard (“Like Gandalf!” Ernst had exclaimed) went up to the front of the dining hall. He looked wise, someone Moritz might look up to. “Greetings, everyone, welcome to Hogwarts, school of witchcraft and wizardry.” Cheers of students rang through the hall. “Before we begin dinner, we start with the sorting ceremony.” Most of the new students (except Ernst, who stood there silently) cheered.

Names rolled by, with quite a few Gryffindors, a handful of Ravenclaws, and God knows how many Slytherins. Only a tiny amount of Hufflepuffs. Everyone must’ve wished to be brave, smart, or evil. Not cute. Cute got you no where.

When Ernst’s name was called, he shyly walked up to the front of the area, knotting his fingers in his sweater. He bowed his head, careful not to look too scared in front of everyone. A teacher sat him on the stool standing in the center, and placed a hat on his head. Moritz thought the hat was pretty neat; it TALKED! He loved the look on the first student’s face when he heard words coming from its mouth. Ernst sat there, not facing anyone. He drummed his fingers on his legs, waiting. He couldn’t get into Slytherin, he simply couldn’t. He couldn’t imagine the shock his family would be through. “HUFFLEPUFF!” He smiled. The room applauded him, and he rushed over to the Hufflepuff table. Older students patted him on the back and said numerous hellos. He waved to Moritz.

Next was Moritz. He stumbled over his feet on his way up, causing a lot of laughs from students (Ernst quietly told some people to stop it). He was going to be such a failure in this school, he could just feel it. His mother and father would be so disappointed in him. He closed his eyes when he was seated on the stool. _Picture yourself in a far away castle,_ his grandmother used to tell him when he was much younger and couldn’t sleep. _Imagine the good you can do for your land. You’re a brave little king, Moritz._

“HUFFLEPUFF!”


	2. Chapter 2

It wasn’t that Moritz was naive. If anything, he was brave compared to his new friend. Really, he was frightened. He failed in regular school, and here? He wasn’t magical. He wasn’t even average. He was Herr Stiefel’s sleepy, sad son.

All he could be was Herr Stiefel’s disappointment.

His father wasn’t magic, though during the summer he did his studying on each house. Herr Stiefel was not a kind or friendly man, and ever since he was a small boy, Moritz was terrified of him. His father warned him, if he didn’t get into a half-decent house, he wouldn’t be welcomed back home. That was a lot for an eleven year old to deal with. Worse, his mama didn’t care.

Hogwarts was warm. Or Ernst piled too many blankets on his bed. Either way, he was uncomfortable. Back in Germany, he was used to cold air hitting his face. Here; it was a furnace, a furnace with a tiny little purring from across the room. How could Ernst sleep in that temperature? He wore those type of pyjamas you’d wear in the winter, and a half-dozen blankets were over him. His face was much more innocent than it had been hours before—and that’s innocent. Like many young children did, he had a thumb in his mouth, and instead of snoring lightly, he purred like a kitten. How was Moritz so lucky to meet someone like that?

He turned to his other side, facing the wall. The place was quiet, even with one thousand students in there. He imagined there’d be some drunk laughing from somewhere. But no, it was silent, and the silence made it impossible to sleep.

That morning he had to write to his father. It worried his little mind. What would Herr Stiefel think when he found out his only child was _a Hufflepuff?_ He knew very well Moritz was not normal. This... he would be embarrassed even more with the boy.

Moritz added a little sound by a cry. He’d never be who his papa wanted him to be. He’d be the child he had to deal with until he turned eighteen.

All he ever wished was to be loved.

 

“Ernst? It’s six in the morning.” Moritz turned around to look at the centre of the dorm. Tall Ernst Robel was on the floor, already in his uniform, and in his hand was a... he had a cage? His hair was combed the way it had been the day before, and he kept the same sheepish grin on his face. How was this a real boy?

Ernst giggled, his cheeks going bright red. “I wanted to—oh, no, you were sleeping! I’m sorry! I—I’m so sorry, M—” His eyes were watery with tears. Moritz doubted he meant to be like that; Ernst couldn’t be mean, even if he tried. He hadn’t a mean bone in his body.

“It’s okay, it’s nothing. I was awake anyway,” Moritz lied. In truth, he had an hour’s rest, and that wasn’t enough. Lack of sleep made his bones ache more than usual. His head would hurt badly, too. But he didn’t want to make his friend cry. “When do we go for breakfast? Seven?”

Ernst set the cage down on his bed and shrugged. “I guess that’d be an appropriate time, if anyone else wakes. I want to make more friends today! It’s fun to say hello to new people! I hope some people are as nice as you are.”

Moritz yawned. He stretched his arms over his head, and bringing his arms down, a finger got stuck in his knotted hair. It got out easily; it was not new, that happening. Ernst giggled once again. He had a weird laugh, one Moritz never heard before.

“You’ll make a lot of good friends, Ernst. All you need is that smile.”

“Thank you, dear. You’ll make good friends too. Just wear a smile. Please.”

 

The Hufflepuff boys sat next to each other in the dining hall. After a long speech from a professor, they could eat. Ernst forgot breakfast, and instead stared at a blond boy at the Slytherin table. His brown eyes looked so lost.

“Why don’t you talk to him?” Moritz asked through a mouthful of French toast. Ernst shook his head quick enough to make the room spin. His face went blank. “Does someone have a crush? Awww—“

“Well, I wasn’t the one staring at the curly-haired Ravenclaw!” Moritz choked on his toast. He didn’t mean to make it look like he was staring at the first year Ravenclaw. He was so cute. Ernst grinned, and turned back to the Slytherins.

_Oh God._


End file.
